


Oh, So You're a Virgin

by ArchOfImagine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Cuddling, Fuck Or Die, Humor, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Virgin Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 00:58:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13670955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine
Summary: Dean and Sam have been caught by a group of virgin sacrificing cannibals. Dean doesn't have much of a plan, but Sam has the answer.





	Oh, So You're a Virgin

**Author's Note:**

> This had been sitting in my 'in progress' folder since 2015, so when I went to clear out said folder, I found a mostly finished ficlet and decided to wrap it up and make it a thing. Enjoy!

How did they always end up in these situations? Dean moved around his cell and tried to brainstorm a quick way out. It’d be a lot easier if Sam wasn’t tied to a wall in a cell two doors down.

Ready to be sacrificed. And _eaten._

_’By morning light we will sacrifice the virgin to our Gods in hopes of being blessed with fertility amongst the people.’_

Dean had screamed until his throat went hoarse over the fact that neither of the brothers was a virgin, they were both well into their adult years, so how could they _possibly_ qualify for this particular sacrifice?

And then he had seen it. That look in Sam’s eye that clearly said, ‘Shut the fuck up, Dean, you don’t know what you’re saying and are only making things worse.’

Sam Winchester was… a _virgin._

Dean planned to spend a few days wrapping his brain around that particular fact.

After he rescued them. 

A guard’s footfalls sounded outside the door to Dean’s cell. Since the village of weirdos seemed to mostly be peaceful (albeit a little cannibalistic), Dean played up the only plan he could think of. “Hey! You. Um… Josiah? Right?”

The man, who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five, stopped and turned to Dean, moving closer to the cell bars. “Only my brethren may use my given name. You will call me Custos.”

“Right. Apologies. So um, Custard, I know this thing is going down tomorrow morning. I just… if this is the last day before my brother is sacrificed — can I atleast spend this evening with him in his cell? It’s not like we can escape when he’s tied to a wall.” Dean held his arms out — when they had thrown him in the cell, they had stripped him of everything but a simple t-shirt and his boxers. “And I’m not hiding a lock pick up my ass.”

“It’s _Custos_ ,” the man grumbled under his breath. He walked away and Dean thought for sure that his own attempts at a joke were going to cost him his one chance. But then Custard showed back up with four other guards in tow. “We will transfer you to your brother’s cell. Try anything suspicious and the warden will make you participate in tomorrow’s meal.”

He about swallowed his tongue at that idea. _Tomorrow’s meal._ AKA: Sam. “I promise to be good.” He wouldn’t risk making a move against five guys anyways. Not with Sam’s life at stake.

They opened the cell door and he was lead down the hallway with four weapons pointed at his back. When they reached Sam’s cell, Dean grimaced at the way his brother was hanging from the wall. 

Sam hadn’t been left the luxury of undergarments. He was completely naked, his arms spread open and pinned to the concrete at each wrist. With his hair falling in his eyes and his face hanging down — Dean couldn’t help but notice he looked a bit like images of Jesus that he had seen in the past. 

Before Dean was allowed into the room, a small young girl scurried out past them. Dean frowned, wondering what the girl had been doing, until he looked to the floor of the cell and noticed a jug of oil and a bowl with a cloth laying on the edge.

The guards shoved Dean inside, and Custard laughed. “I suppose you can finish Mary-Katherine’s job. Your brother must be completely anointed before the sacrifice. I’ll come check your progress in two hours.”

With that, the men locked the cell door and turned to leave. Dean hurried to his younger brother and lifted his chin. “Sam? Sammy? Talk to me. Are you alright?”

Hazel eyes blinked open after a long moment, and Sam gave Dean a teary-eyed look. “I’m going to be eaten.”

It was said so simply, that Dean couldn’t help but choke back a humorless laugh. “I bet you’re real gamey. All that muscle. No juicy bits.” His face scrunched up in a frown. “I wonder if they eat your di—” 

“Dean!”

“Sorry.” Dean shook away his thoughts and looked around the cell. “Well, I got in here, but that was about all of Plan A that I had figured out.”

“So no lock picks to get me free?”

“Left those in my other boxers.”

“Dean. They’re going to _eat me_. There has to be a way out of here.” Sam turned his head to the right and left, trying to see the cuffs holding him against the wall.

“Well it’s your fault. I mean… what virgin goes hunting a ‘virgin sacrificing cult’ without telling his partner the truth?” Okay so maybe Dean was pouting. But the fact that he had witnessed Sam making out with women… but still his brother was a _virgin_... like _how did that happen?_

“It’s killing you, isn’t it? The fact that I kept it a secret this long.” 

Dean frowned, moving over to examine the oil that had been left behind by Mary-Katherine. “I’m just sorry that my little brother hasn’t taken the time to experience pussy.” An idea occurred to him and suddenly he looked up at Sam with a grin. “That’s it! We just have to convince one of the chicks walking around here to fuck you. I mean the position might be a little awkward, but if we got a stool or something…” He shrugged, tilting his head and examining the height at which Sam’s dick laid limp. “All we need is to take your V-card and they _can’t_ sacrifice you.”

“None of these women are going to agree to that, Dean.” Sam dropped his head again. “Besides, if I was into women _or_ sex, I would have stopped being a virgin a long time ago.”

“I’m sure with the right convincing argument—” His words cut off as he realized what Sam had said. “You aren’t into chicks?”

“No.”

“Oh.” It gave him pause, but not for long. Now that Dean’s brain was rolling with the idea of _how_ to get Sam out, he was just trying to put together the rest of the puzzle pieces. “We’ll get one of the dudes, then. Are you a top or bottom?” 

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “I’m _asexual._ I’ve never had a desire to have sex — so how would I know if I’m a top or a bottom? All I know is that I’ve always been more attracted to men than women, but unfortunately men are less accepting of the whole ‘intimacy without sex’ bit.”

Well _that_ explained a lot. Dean’s shoulders slumped as he looked around the cell. There was no other answer then. Short of fighting their way past the guards and stealing keys to Sam’s cuffs — there was no easy answer for escape.

“You could do it,” Sam whispered.

The words were so soft and gentle, that Dean wasn’t quite sure what he had heard. “Do what?”

His little brother blinked, and looked over to him. “You could take my virginity.”

Dean snorted, and looked away. “No I couldn’t.”

“Yes. You _could._ ”

“No, Sam.” He was not doing _that_ to his own brother.

“You were just telling me how there weren’t any other options. Even now, we’ve got maybe an hour before the goons are back and what then?” Sam pouted. “I don’t want to get eaten, Dean.”

“I’ll fight off the goons.”

“Yeah, right. If you were going to do that, you would have done it already.”

“I can’t fuck my own _brother_ , Sam.”

“Well you could, if you weren’t being such a pansy.”

That got the exact reaction that Sam meant for it to. Dean spun towards him and glared. “I’m not a pansy. But I just can’t make Little Dean get hard on a dime. There has to be boobs and wet squishy holes and — you have neither of those things.”

Sam motioned with his head towards the floor and Dean looked down to where the bowl of ceremonial oil sat. _Oh._ But… 

“You really want me to do this? I mean… isn’t this going to make shit a bit awkward on the ride home?”

Sam laughed softly. “Only if you don’t use enough oil.”

As Dean reached for the bowl, he couldn’t help but muse, “I think I’d rather see you get eaten…”

* * *

“I said _slow_ , Dean,” Sam growled, voice tense with emotion.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to slow his movements — even though he wasn’t sure how that was possible when he was already going at a snail’s pace. The oil was helping. So was the ten plus minutes he had spent stretching Sam open with his fingers. 

But he could still imagine that it felt weird to have something so big fitting into a place so small, so he went slow and tried to pay attention to Sam’s noises. _To his brother’s sex noises._ Dean was still having a hard time getting over that, but he had to admit any wrongness had to be worth saving Sam’s _life_.

“I know, Sam, and I know they said we had two hours, but time ain’t exactly a luxury here.”

Sam nodded his head and took a few deep breaths, obviously trying to calm himself. After a moment, he tugged Dean closer with his legs and shifted his hips a bit. “Okay. I’m ready. You can go faster.”

Doubt suddenly clouded Dean’s mind. “Are you sure?”

Another nod. 

He didn’t go as fast as he would if Sam were a woman — it just didn’t seem like a good idea. But he did move enough for Sam to feel every shift and to create enough friction that suddenly Dean’s cock was _enjoying_ what was happening, even if his brain kept having hiccups. 

A few moves later, and suddenly Sam was tensing and Dean froze, worried that he had hurt his brother. “What did I do?” he whispered.

Sam’s voice was breathy, even… desperate? “I think you just found my prostate.”

Oh. Dean glanced down between their bodies — like he could _see_ Sam’s prostate — but all he could see was Sam’s cock twitching to life. _Oh._ He began to move again, trying to replicate the move. When Sam’s breath kept hitching and small moans kept escaping his lips, Dean knew he was doing something right. 

He glanced down to Sam’s cock once more, before asking, “Can I… touch you?”

“What?”

_Shit._ The response caught Dean off-guard. He shouldn’t have asked that, it was crossing a line—

“Y-yeah, you can.”

He couldn’t control the shiver that ran down his spine. Or explain the meaning behind it. There would be time for worrying about that later, though. He slipped his hand down between them and wrapped it slowly around Sam’s cock. Thanks to the oil from earlier, the movements were nice and smooth — and with their current position, Sam pinned to the wall, legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, it was almost like Dean was reaching down to jerk himself off. Except, of course, that Sam was an inch or so bigger and the unconscious twist that Dean always used at the tip of his dick, kept falling short when Dean forgot to continue the stroke upwards just a second longer. 

Dean closed his eyes, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Sam’s shoulder as his hips continued to move at a steady pace. He was reaching the end, getting closer and closer to that peak, but Sam’s cock was still kind of soft, and there was no way Dean could hold off long enough to get his brother there first. 

“It’s okay,” Sam whispered, obviously reading his mind. “It still feels good.”

As Dean got closer and closer, he could hear footsteps sounding outside of the room, somewhere at the other end of the hall. He leaned forward, hips moving faster, hands moving to dig into Sam’s hip bones. He kissed the sweat soaked skin at the juncture of Sam’s neck, and as the key slipped into the lock of the cell door, he let out a groan and came deep inside of his brother.

* * *

“ _They let us go._ ” Dean stood in the middle of an open field, staring around at the emptiness surrounding them. After the guards had caught them — and saw quite clearly that Sam was no longer an edible virgin — they’d been knocked unconscious. As the fist swung, Dean thought for sure that he would wake up as part of someone else’s meal plan. Just for kicks, if not for sacrifice.

Instead, he had woken up fully dressed, laying next to his brother in the middle of that field. They’d obviously been moved, and who knew how long they’d been out for… but odds were, the camp of virgin sacrificing cannibals was long gone, if they went back to try and gank them.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we get out of here please? My ass hurts.”

Dean groaned, reaching out to help his brother up off the ground. “I’m not a small dude, Sammy.”

“Well I knew that, in theory.”

They walked for half a mile before they found a parking lot with a car suitable enough for stealing. From there, they drove back to the last spot Dean could remember parking the Impala. Sure enough, she was sitting, waiting patiently for them. 

Inside the car, the air was tense and despite knowing that Sam might want to chat (and having a few questions of his own… maybe), they remained quiet until they were about three hours north and pulling into a motel.

It was only after showers and settling in, that Dean watched his brother climb into one of the queen sized beds and frowned. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head, talking about his desire for a guy that could be intimate without sex… it reminded him of all of the nights they’d slept curled around each other as children.

Dean bypassed the other bed and slipped under the covers next to his brother. Sam turned to face him, eyebrow raised in confusion. Dean shrugged, putting his right hand behind his head like he usually did before sleep. After a beat, he held out his left arm, watching Sam and waiting for him to get the message. 

Sammy had the shyest of smiles as he moved over, curling up against his brother with his head on Dean’s shoulder and his arm thrown over his waist.

It felt… _nice._ Yeah. Good. Right, even.

“G’night, Sammy.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”


End file.
